Battlestar Golucktica
by scully-hearts-roslin
Summary: This is a completely silly crack fic and pretty self-explanatory. Just grab some New Caprica weed and enjoy the ride. Main characters all appear, though slightly... different - the title already suggests it. A/R included.


**Warning: **This is a crack fic (or better: script), i.e. PURE nonsense. Snag some presidential weed before you read this, folks, and don't say you haven't been warned. ;o)

**Disclaimer:** So not mine that show... although, this one here maybe. *g* Most main characters are appearing somehow, first and foremost A/R.

* * *

**BATTLESTAR GOLUCKTICA**

Scene 1

_Golucktica. CIC. COLONEL HIGH leans against a wall on CIC. He yawns and exchanges grumpy looks with LIEUTENANT GAYDAR while nipping at his drink._

_ADMIRAL ADRAMA rushes onto CIC after a beat._

ADRAMA: Status report!

HIGH: Five nylon motherships. Hundreds of nylon radars. We are pretty frakked.

ADRAMA: Send out the vipers!

HIGH: They are out-numbering us, Billy-boy. Might as well join the party and have a sip.

ADRAMA: (shoots him a petty look) Cruella, put me through to Colonial Fun. I need to speak to the President.

CRUELLA: Yes, sir! (puts him through) Line one.

ADRAMA: Madame President?

_LAURA RAWSIN, on Colonial Fun, picks up the receiver._

RAWSIN: Admiral.

ADRAMA: We have a situation.

_Dramatic music._

RAWSIN: I noticed. Nylons are trying to shoot off my cruiser's tail. Am getting seasick from all the evasive maneuvers.

ADRAMA: Sorry for that. Sent out Scarmug and some vipers to protect the fleet already.

RAWSIN: What are our numbers?

ADRAMA: You don't wanna know. (pauses) This might be the perfect moment for one of your visions, Laura.

RAWSIN: Make sure your vipers tear holes in some of those nylons and I'll do my best. (pauses) Anything else?

ADRAMA: (whispers) This might keep me from dinner.

RAWSIN: Oh not again!

ADRAMA: I told you it's not easy living with an Admiral.

RAWSIN: I'm the frakking President and last week we found out that I'm the nylon God, shouldn't I get some benefits? I don't give a frak about the titles!

ADRAMA: I know that you don't, but they really turn me on.

RAWSIN: Not on the phone, Billy-boy. Let's wait till the press could hear us.

ADRAMA: Of course, love-bug.

HIGH: Good Gods. Would someone please shoot me now? (looks at Heron)

* * *

Scene 2

_ADMIRAL ADRAMA's quarters. WEE ADRAMA shifts from one leg to another while giving his report to his father._

ADRAMA: Oh c'mon, Atrollo. 421 nylon ships against 23 of our vipers? Back in my days we called that standard procedure.

ATROLLO: But pops, they had real guns!

ADRAMA: Yes, and this is a real argument we are having with those nylons! For frak's sake, son – they nuked our suburbias. They hit my renowned collection of garden gnomes. They burnt your President's lacy underwear. I want revenge!

ATROLLO: You never would've started this fight over moma's underwear!

ADRAMA: JC Penny's versus Victoria's Secret, son! The slut collection!

ATROLLO: She manipulates you.

ADRAMA: That's how I like it.

ATROLLO: She is corrupting you.

ADRAMA: Did you see her legs?

ATROLLO: This is a fight we will lose!

ADRAMA: Are you kidding me? She's the nylon God – they won't vaporize their own God.

ATROLLO: They see us as their parents. They wanna kill us. I don't trust their family values.

ADRAMA: Wee. Don't let Scarmug fog your mind again. All her ramblings about us hitting the wrong road towards Earth. Stop listening to her or I will throw her in the brig again. (smiles) Gods, I know how much fun that can be in a relationship.

_Flashback to LAURA RAWSIN in Golucktica's brig._

ADRAMA: You betrayed me.

RAWSIN: Well, actually Scarmug did. The daughter who isn't yours. The one who sort of killed your son Frak?

ADRAMA: Stop defending yourself. You are only making it worse.

RAWSIN: Oh, stop being such a drama queen. We both know why you threw me in this brig.

ADRAMA: And what a pity that I have to be back on duty in 23 minutes.

RAWSIN: Plenty of time for a good frak I'd say, Commander.

_Back in ADRAMA's quarters._

ADRAMA: (clears throat) Make it happen, son. I don't care how. I just wanna be on Colonial Fun for breakfast

ATROLLO: (salutes) Yes, sir.

_ATROLLO leaves and HIGH enters._

HIGH: The reports your asked for.

ADRAMA: Oh, fantabulous! Any juicy details?

HIGH: Seems you were right. Your little school teacher had an affair with Prez-hunk Dick Ajar.

ADRAMA: Score. Seems I'll win this time.

* * *

Scene 3

_Colonial Fun. PRESIDENT RAWSIN's provisional quarters. She has breakfast in bed. ADMIRAL ADRAMA enters, files in hand._

ADRAMA: Morning, love-bug. Sleep well?

RAWSIN: Missed your snoring.

ADRAMA: Love ya more. (kisses her)

RAWSIN: (points to files) What's that?

ADRAMA: This, my cuddly little nylon God is my ticket to Friday night's _whose-sexual-fantasy-do-we-act-out-this-time_. It's evidence for your affair with Dick Ajar.

RAWSIN: Oh is it?

ADRAMA: I got times and prolonged meetings and a Valentine's photo.

RAWSIN: I have blood tests.

ADRAMA: Huh?

RAWSIN: Wee. He's not your son.

ADRAMA: Excuse me?

RAWSIN: Looks as if your unfaithful drunkard of a wife cheated on you even before you married her for a son that's not yours.

ADRAMA: How dare you to test my blood?

RAWSIN: Oh c'mon, your fantasies are always so lame. I'm in for some action this week.

ADRAMA: I should be appalled.

RAWSIN: You should be thrilled. I talked Doctor Cuddle into leaving sickbay to us on Friday night. I got the keys already.

ADRAMA: Red bra?

RAWSIN: No panties.

_They kiss and start to make out._

_Then a knock. Presidential aide FROSTY TOASTER peeks her head through the presidential curtain._

TOASTER: Ma'am? Oh, I'm sorry.

RAWSIN: What is it, Frosty?

TOASTER: (covers her eyes) The Nylons request to speak to you.

RAWSIN: About what?

TOASTER: God business they said.

RAWSIN: Which means I couldn't send Zarwreck?

TOASTER: No vice-roy they said.

RAWSIN: (sighs) Alrighty then. Tell them I'll meet them on Tearoll's hangar deck after I finished frakking my Admiral.

* * *

Scene 4

_Golucktica's hangar deck. CHIEF TEAROLL is working on vipers while nylons SEX, TREE and HERON step out of their raider. SEX immediately scans the room for BALLSTAR who lurks around. He rushes over to her, trips and falls. His head-groupie SHILLY-SHALLY suppresses a giggle, and waves to her husband._

_SEX helps BALLSTAR to get up and punches TREE in the rips when she holds out her hand to help him as well. They start a fight, slapping their hands and pulling each other's hair. CHIEF TEAROLL puts down his tools and gathers his team._

TEAROLL: Chick fight over Ballstar!

_Spurring on the nylons, the deck team exchanges bets and smiles until ADMIRAL ADRAMA and PRESIDENT RAWSIN interrupt the dance._

ADRAMA: What the frak is this?

RAWSIN: (whispers to him) Pillow fight, love bug, only without pillows.

ADRAMA: (clears his throat) Stop that! No fighting of any sort on my hangar deck.

TEAROLL: (shoots him a grumpy look & mumbles) My hangar deck...

_LAURA RAWSIN steps closer to the nylons._

RAWSIN: You asked to speak to me?

_The nylons fall on their knees and pull down BALLSTAR with them._

TREE: (bows repeatedly) Hail the nylon God!

RAWSIN: (smiles) Erm, while you're down there... Would you mind polishing my shoes?

_HERON hesitates for a second, shrugs and then licks RAWSIN's shoes._

RAWSIN: Oh, excellent. Much better. (enjoys shiny shoes) Now what do you want?

SEX: We want peace, oh one and only nylon God.

RAWSIN: I really don't want to act teacher here now, but did you check a dictionary for peace lately? Mine says attacking the human fleet doesn't qualify as peace talks.

TREE: (stares at BALLSTAR) Our human interpreter here said you'd appreciate a sign of strength. (Kicks him.)

RAWSIN: Huh, misinterpretations, cultural misunderstandings. Politics – gotta love it!

SEX: So you would consider to talk peace with us?

RAWSIN: (ponders, consults ADRAMA) Well, you would have to agree to sacrificing something of course.

HERON: We are prepared to nuke our resurrection cribs.

RAWSIN: (is all giddy) Oh, what a nice gesture. Gotta heart that. Admiral, do we happen to have any flu infected beacons lying around on Golucktica as a friendly payback?

ADRAMA: I will consult Cuddle and High. But I bet we'll be able to muster something.

SEX: Excellent! Let's shake hands over this.

RAWSIN: Nah, why so formal? Let's kiss feet over this. (Holds out her left foot.)

_TREE, HERON and SEX shrug and comply with modest smiles on their lips._

RAWSIN: Oh, and one more thing... (eyes BALLSTAR) He needs to go.

SEX: (nods) No problem, oh divine Rawsin. We'll frak him to death.

RAWSIN: Whatever seems appropriate. (smirks) Are we done then? Had to interrupt my morning frak for this, you know. Makes me a a little cranky when that happens.

SEX: (nods understandingly, sighs) Runs in the family.

RAWSIN: Well, good then. (claps hands) Off we go. Billy-boy? With this peace treaty unsigned, I think it's now or never: frak fest in CIC!

ADRAMA: (whispers to her) But don't we have a meeting scheduled with Gaydar about Earth?

RAWSIN: Oh, screw Earth. Only comes with visions and scriptures and strange music and headaches.

ADRAMA: So peace with the nylons from now on, and some roaming through space without a map or directions?

RAWSIN: As if we ever had a frakking clue where we were headed after your navigation system collapsed.

ADRAMA: Blind jumps are so much fun!

RAWSIN: (rolls eyes) Too much talking, Billy-boy! This God wants some action NOW.

ADRAMA: Yes, ma'am, OK ma'am, anything you make me pray for, ma'am.

_Cut to ADRAMA's wide grin as he lifts her into his arms to carry a giggling RAWSIN to CIC. The scene fades to black._

**End Credits  
**

* * *

_And next week on Battlestar Golucktica..._

RAWSIN: (lies naked in ADRAMA's arms) Let's find Earth. We just ran out of weed.


End file.
